


I can't help falling in love with you

by exodus



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 19:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exodus/pseuds/exodus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy tries to get Clarke to relax, so he takes her on a walk with him to collect supplies, until it starts to rain and they have to take shelter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't help falling in love with you

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this Tumblr prompt;  
> anonymous asked: 
> 
> Bellarke prompt: where Bellamy and Clarke go on a day trip to get supplies or whatever and because of the terrible weather they end up in an abandoned building/house where there is only one bed (plus all the feels)

    Waking up was harder than ever for Clarke. Naturally, she would wake up before the others in order to complete most of her duties before the rush of work overwhelmed her like it always did. Octavia would often try and tell Clarke that the work was swallowing her alive, but Clarke knew that in order to be a good leader, she had to wake up early and do the things that no one else would. Yet today, she couldn’t bring herself to push her legs out from under her thin covers and look at everyone’s faces. Perhaps it could have been the fact that she had been constantly conjuring nightmares in her sleep. She shook the thought off. Finally, after staring at nothing for at least twenty minutes, she loosened her hold on the blanket and reluctantly heaved her pitiful ass out of her bed, placing her feet onto the cold ground. It normally took Clarke two minutes to change into some clothing and untangle her hair as best as possible, but today she practically dragged her own weight around, sluggishly completing small tasks.   
     “Clarke, you’re not dead right?” She heard, coming from behind the practically transparent tarp walls. Although there was a small hint of humor in his voice, Clarke knew it was likely that Bellamy was concerned.   
     “No, Bell I’m alive. Sorry, I’m just abnormally tired,” her throat crackled as she said it. Clearing it by coughing slightly, she spoke again, “I’ll be ready in a few moments.”  
     “Are you clothed?”  
     “Well, yes,” Clarke turned to look at the tent’s entrance as the tall Blake boy stepped in to speak more privately.  
     “You need a break, Princess. You’ve been working non-stop from 5 to 12 every day this week and we need our lovely leader energized and prepared for anything. If you’re tired, you can’t think straight or fight right. You drop your guard and we need you to keep us alive,” Clarke heard his words as; ‘You’re our only hope as you’re the most educated, you’re medically trained and you know Lexa on a personal level.’ When in reality, Bellamy practically said; ‘I’m worried for your health and I’m begging you to get some more sleep.’ Either way, he was entirely correct. It was unhealthy for her to be staying up so late and getting up so early.  
     “No one else will do the work, Bellamy.”  
     “Then come with me to get some supplies today, as a break, ‘cause that still counts as working,” his beautiful brown eyes glowed as he pleaded. He wasn’t entirely sure if she would say yes – in fact, he was certain she’d say no. So when she bobbed her small blonde head in agreement, he tried very hard to hide his excitement and shock.          
      “Okay, okay. What’s your favorite color?” Clarke breathed, still laughing from watching Bellamy get distracted and trip on a tree root, stubbing his toe and getting a face full of dirt. Scowling, Bellamy wiped the brown specks off his face and indiscreetly hid his own chuckle.   
      “There’s no way you’ll believe this, but my favorite color is black,” Bellamy sarcastically remarked, bending over to inspect some mushrooms of their edibility.  
    “Black is a shade,” Clarke looked up at the black clouds in the sky and frowned.  
     “Don’t be a smart ass,” Finally deciding the mushrooms would probably not kill him, he picked them from the ground and placed them in his bag with the other items he had gathered.  
     “Bell, we should be heading back, I think it might rain,” Clarke drabbled on, pulling on his black jacket sleeve to catch his attention. When he glanced at the sky, he shrugged his shoulders at her.  
     “Just a little farther, I think I saw an apple tree near here.” Clarke jumped a bit to reposition her knapsack and hiked after him in quick small strides to catch up with his long ones. After a minute or two of silence, keeping a strained ear for threats, Clarke squeaked, “I feel like you could do better than black. Like dark blue or burgundy.”  
     Smiling, Bellamy chuckled to himself, “Look, Princess, I’m content with my ‘shade’.” Suddenly, Bellamy halted which made Clarke instinctively draw her hand to her side where a gun was holstered.   
     “What happened?” She breathlessly whispered to him, back turned and searching through the dim forest. Then, he laughed. He crouched and began to whole-heartedly wheeze with laughter. Clarke’s expression turned from concerned to irritated. Hitting him on the head, she snapped, “Jesus Bell, I thought you saw an animal or heard something. What the Hell?” She inquired, bending down to keep eye level with him.  
      “I’m so sorry Clarke, but it seems as if water is falling from the sky,” he understood, gasping for air in between words. Stiffly, Clarke blinked at her companion and then placed her hand out to check. Sure enough, she was right about the bad weather rolling in. Rolling her eyes, the blonde helped Bellamy up and began to walk at a brisk pace in front of him.  
     “Oh, come on Princess, I apologized,” Bellamy whined, jogging to keep at the same pace.  
     “Actually, you arrogant shit, I’m finding shelter.”  
     “Oh.”  
     “Oh is right.”

     After what seemed like a couple hours had passed, which only ended up being ten minutes, Bellamy groaned for the fifth time behind Clarke as he sulked in the now pouring rain.   
     “’I know where shelter is!’ she says. Yeah, well, I saw a unicorn yesterday.” He mocked, mumbling.   
     “You mean this shelter?” Clarke questioned, causing Bellamy to take his eyes off his feet and smile in relief as the outline of a door was visible in the side of a hill. What an odd place for a door to be, he thought to himself. As if Bellamy was thinking aloud, Clarke muttered, “Must have been a small cottage before, my guess is it wasn’t like this before.”  
     Opening the door with a huge push from Bellamy’s hip, they both stepped into a tiny room, with a bed, a sink and fridge, a dining table and what looked to be a former bathroom, now dirt packed and one with the hill. Dust fell lightly from the ceiling as they stepped carefully around, hoping the shelter was stable enough.  
      “We’ll stay here till dawn, and then head back to camp. Have you radioed Raven?” Clarke inquired as she closed the door and swung her bag off her back. Bellamy shook his head and checked the sink to see if it produced any water. Like he thought, it didn’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to check just in case. Turning, he looked at Clarke and almost choked on his own spit. She had taken her hair out of its twisted knot and slipped off her jacket to reveal pale shoulders. At first, he wondered what it would be like to see the rest of her, until he shook his head and reminded himself he didn’t want a relationship. Bellamy decided when he was very young that he didn’t want marriage and he didn’t want to raise a child in the Ark environment. Until he was sure the ground was safe with no enemies constantly trying to kill them, he would keep his mind off of anything but strictly flings; looking at Clarke peacefully, it was hard to keep that promise.   
     “Bell, can you look around for a cot or something?” Clarke looked to Bellamy and he smirked, gesturing around him as if to suggest, ‘Look where, Princess?’ She pursed her lips and sighed tiredly as she started opening cupboards for supplies or something to keep her occupied. Bellamy continued watching her as if he had nothing better to do, and his heart fluttered when he saw her smile brightly at something she found in a kitchen drawer. Pulling it out, he looked carefully at it until he saw it was big, brown box with a circular disk in the middle and a small tab. Clarke realized he didn’t know what it was, and brought  it over to the table in the centre of the room to demonstrate. Switching the on button, she was glad the batteries weren’t dead.   
     “They used to be better than this, I swear. You could plug them in and they were probably better quality as well but this will do,” she breathed using her nimble fingers to put the tab on the disc and close her eyes as quiet, muffled music spread through the room. Clarke moved to the bed and sat with her back cross-legged, digging out her art supplies, ignoring the brown haired boy as he sat beside her.   
     “Show me some of your drawings,” Bellamy uttered. Clarke threw him a sideways glance, and continued sketching until she decided it wouldn’t be too harmful to show him a few. Flipping through her book for something that was suitable to present, her face flushed as she quickly passed a drawing she really didn’t want him to see. As if it was nothing, she continued rapidly moving the papers between her fingers until she settled on a drawing of the ground that she did on the Ark before she was arrested.  
     “This is beautiful,” his voice soft, Bellamy praised her. Clarke flushed more but he didn’t notice, distracted by her accurate representation of flowers and trees having not quite seen them before other than photos from books.   
     “So, what was that other one?” He teased, laughing as her eyes grew wide.   
     “Nothing, okay? Now give it back,” Clarke whined and Bellamy’s eyes crinkled at her relaxed tone. He put his arm out of her reach and held her down with a free hand as he slowly tried to find the photo he was so curious of. After much struggle and a sulking and embarrassed Clarke hugging a dusty pillow, Bellamy finally stumbled upon a sketch that could only be the one she was thinking of.  
     “You look good from that angle,” she shrugged, admitting out loud after he pondered for a few minutes. Grabbing her pencils, he sat up more and opened to a blank page.   
     “Sit up, act normal, don’t move,” Bell demanded, and Clarke followed his commands immediately. For the next twenty minutes, he sat sketching her as she twiddled her thumbs. His favorite thing to draw was her hair, ever-changing tangles cascading down to her shoulders, the wind always blowing it in so many directions; fit for a queen.   
  
     “I like this song,” Clarke interrupted, getting up to move the record player carefully closer.  
     “I said don’t move!” Bellamy complained, hitting her lightly on the shoulder with the sketchpad, smiling as he listened to the lyrics. Gazing at her as she sat back down in her former position, humming, his heart fluttered at the words.  
  
 _Wise men say only fools rush in_  
but I can’t help falling in love with you  
Shall I stay  
would it be a sin  
If I can’t help falling in love with you  
Like a river flows surely to the sea  
Darling so it goes  
some things are meant to be  
take my hand, take my whole life too  
for I can’t help falling in love with you  
  
     They sat together, talking about useless things and occasionally drawing objects (or each other) until Clarke’s yawning became more frequent than not. Changing positions only twice, they ended up with Bellamy on his back and Clarke curled up against him with her head on his chest, aimlessly picking at the holes on his shirt until she fell asleep. After gazing thoughtfully at her peaceful face, Bellamy followed in suit. And when they woke up, they packed all their supplies back into their bags, and left the cottage. Every moment they shared was to be left there, and when they were ready to discuss it again, they would walk back together and let their guard down behind the creaky wooden door.


End file.
